I don't know much about the paranormal. I have only seen a UFO a few times, including the flying saucer that landed on the tiny island across from our cottage on Lake Champlain back in the summer of '73. And if you're talking about telepathy then forget it. My only experience in that realm was when I was twenty-one and dreamed that I assaulted my fourth grade French teacher, Madame Greenblatt, with my Bonjour Lyne textbook. Meanwhile the next morning I got into a car accident with her - (her fault I stubbornly maintain) - on Cote des Neiges Boulevard on my way to an endodontist appointment that I was late for. That was the first time that our paths had crossed since I passed fourth grade.
(Madame Greenblatt dropped dead three days later from a massive stroke although she scored a posthumous Pyrrhic victory when the insurance adjuster found her not at fault in that accident. More important however, I have secretly harbored guilty sentiments ever since bonking her on the head with that psychic blow.)
Still, I am a skeptic and if I didn't see the ghost of Mario driving his powder blue Monte Carlo into a ditch the day after his funeral, I would have never believed a thing.
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